


The Boy Next Door

by sphekso



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, College Student Will Graham, First Time, Hand Jobs, Infidelity, M/M, Married Hannibal Lecter, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Smut, Virgin Will, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-23 04:24:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4863014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sphekso/pseuds/sphekso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal may be married to Bedelia, but his delectable neighbor boy Will is too much for him to handle. When he finally gets him alone, sparks fly, and he gives in to his desires. A sultry affair follows, but the fire of lust always releases smoke, and it's unclear who will end up gasping for air. Will he choose the boy of his obsession, or the mother of his child?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One, Plain and Simple

The sun beat down on Will Graham in the way that mid-July suns are wont to do. That is to say: considering how long he’d been mowing his lawn, it was damned close to miraculous that he hadn’t keeled over from heat stroke. It wasn’t unusual for him to take this long. He was a stickler for details, and viewed every blade of grass as an enemy to be battled.

As he worked, there was a slight motion in the house next door’s upstairs window. It wasn’t enough for anyone to notice unless they’d been looking in the first place, but if they _had_ been looking, they would’ve seen a middle-aged man—dashing, though that would be impossible to see from the street—popping a hole in his plastic blinds to peer through at Will as he mowed his lawn.

But it wasn’t _really_ Will’s lawn. It was his parents’, and they made ample use of him as manual labor every time he was home. And every time he was home, the man next door took an interest in him. An innocent interest in his eyes, though he knew some would despise him as a voyeur. But he always kept himself well hidden, and if his wife were to notice, well, _That’s such a nice mower, darling. We really should get one like that._ Whether he’d mean the ‘mower’ to be the device or the boy would be up for interpretation.

But back to Will. He was nearly in his twenties now, a fact that brought him great pleasure. He was tired of being a teenager. Boys his age were so damned immature, and he figured once he hit that big two-oh he would really be considered an adult. He was lost in thoughts of his birthday party as he pushed the mower. So lost, in fact, that he didn’t notice how much he was sweating until his shirt was completely soaked through. He peeled it off, slingshotted it onto the porch—or at least somewhere near the porch—and breathed a sigh of relief as his naked chest hit the open air.

The man next door’s eyes widened to plates. His gaze burned into his teenage neighbor’s flesh hard enough to rival the sun’s hot grasp. And again, if anyone could see him, they would note the way he quickly darted his tongue along his full lips like he was catching the straggling, foamy remnants of a milkshake. What they wouldn’t be able to note was the way his head bobbed millimeters at a time with the motion of his hand.

Will began to hum a tune as he neared the end of his task. He couldn’t quite place the song—at least not the lyrics—but he knew the melody well enough. Some pop trash he’d heard on the radio, most likely. As much as he completely un-ironically embraced the ‘hipster’ label in his musical tastes, he was still a sucker for a good hook. Whether it was wrapped in banjos or synths was irrelevant. And then, he mused as he mowed, there were the pop stars with crossover appeal: the ones who wrote their own music and could belt out acoustic, too. They were the artists he didn’t feel guilty about loving. With that thought he realized he’d been humming _Bad Romance_ , and smiled to himself. It wasn’t pop trash after all. Just pop gold.

No one but the man next door noticed his smile. He pulled the blinds down a little more, widening the gap in them, and gawked at Will’s perfect, innocent display of white teeth. The man felt that Will—or _that boy_ , as he only knew him—was smiling just for him. His hand moved a little faster.

Will brushed the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and sighed. In the process of imagining his perfect birthdayhe’d realized that his friends would most definitely try to get him laid. Again. And, again, he’d have to come up with some reason not to hook up with the girl… or _girls_. His excuses were becoming increasingly lame, and he worried that his friends were starting to see through him, but any excuse was better than the truth. The truth was, he wasn’t _that way_. He was the _wrong way_. He’d never acted on it. If it ever got back to his parents… he shook his head fast, sending little droplets of sweat from side to side. He knew it was a cross he’d have to bear until his parents were dead and gone.

An illusory viewer of the man next door would’ve seen his features twitch and convulse then, and would’ve noticed the blinds snap shut again. But no human did. Least of all, thankfully, Will Graham, who had finished up his job and was carting the mower back to his family’s standalone garage. His chest glistened beautifully in the light, but the man was no longer watching. He’d retreated from the window back into the relative safety of his home: back to the normalcy of his wife and child.

Will tried clapping his hands free of dirt after he rolled the mower up against the end of the garage. They were slick with sweat, so it didn’t work too well. He shrugged to himself and set back around the house to find his shirt. He snatched it up and briefly considered putting it back on, but shrugged again and let it hang from his fist. He climbed the few steps to his front door, pulled it open, and stepped inside and out of view.

 

* * *

 

 

“You could help me with him once in a while, you know,” Bedelia said, hand on her hip. “I feel like I do all the parenting sometimes.”

Hannibal cursed under his breath.

“What was that?” she demanded. Their son snaked his way around her leg and held on tight.

“Nothing,” Hannibal said. “You don’t do all the parenting. I’m still here, you know.”

Bedelia sighed. “I know,” she said. “But sometimes it just seems like you’re far away. You go into your office and… I don’t know, Hannibal, it just seems like you don’t care sometimes.”

“Mama?” their son asked, pawing at his mother’s leg. “Who don’t care?”

“Who _doesn’t_ care,” Hannibal corrected. “And she’s talking about me. But of course I care, don’t I, little one?”

“Yeah!” his son cried. He darted over to Hannibal and gripped his leg.

“That’s right,” Hannibal said. “You’re the only one I care about.”

Bedelia frowned and turned away to tinker with their dinner. It was macaroni with hot dogs tonight, which was fairly gourmet coming from Bedelia. Hannibal didn’t complain, although the dish did wrankle his senses to think about. It wasn’t something he would’ve let near his table before he settled into married life. He did have to admit—though never out loud—that Bedelia’s cooking did tickle the taste buds in its way. She didn’t see the culinary as art like he did, but she knew her way around a frying pan, and for the most part that was enough.

“Daddy?” his son asked, tugging some more at his pants leg.

“Yes, little one?”

“I love you,” his son said.

Hannibal felt emotion overflow his usually broken heart. His child was the only one who could really get through to him. “And I love you,” he said. “Why are you being so sweet?”

“Because Mama is still cooking,” his son said.

“Ah,” Hannibal said, “she is indeed. And you’re too little to help her, aren’t you?”

“Am not!” his son cried.

“Sure you are,” Bedelia said. “Relax with your father, Zachary. He’s not doing any work either.”

“You wound me,” Hannibal said, but his voice had a lilt of playfulness to it. He pulled his son up onto his lap. “Excited for dinner, Zach?”

“I want it so bad,” Zach said.

“ _Badly_ ,” Hannibal corrected. “You want it _badly_.”

“Whatever,” Zach groaned. “I want it _badly_. Good, Daddy?”

“Good,” Hannibal said. He mussed Zach’s hair. “I want it so _badly_ too. Macaroni and dogs, correct?”

“And dogs!” Zach added cheerfully. He hopped off of Hannibal’s lap and went back to dance around Bedelia’s legs, even though she completely ignored him.

He had to admire the boy’s tenacity. “Careful,” he said to Bedelia, “don’t trip him up.”

Bedelia gestured at him with her spatula. “As if I would,” she said, then turned the tool back to the pan in front of her. “We’re about ready. Can you get the placemats from our room? I have our usuals in the wash.”

Hannibal nodded even though she wasn’t paying attention. “I’ll get them.” He stood and ruffled Zach’s hair as he passed them. He reached the stairs and began to climb them. A little shudder caught in his throat as he thought about going upstairs. Normally it wouldn’t matter to him, but…

He reached the top of the stairs and turned off for the master bedroom. He wasn’t exactly sure where the mats were, but as he began to pull out their armoire’s drawers he couldn’t help but be drawn to the window. _Just a peek_ , he thought. It wouldn’t hurt anything. _He_ wouldn’t be outside anyway, not at this time of night.

He was half-right. Will wasn’t outside, but he was clearly visible through his bedroom picture window. Hannibal tensed and cursed under his breath again. Will was splayed on a lounge against the window, reading something Hannibal could only assume to be brilliant. It _had_ to be brilliant. The boy he’d viewed for so long could be nothing less than that.

Will’s shirt rose up a little past his belly, exposing the sparse line of hair leading to… Hannibal grimaced. He couldn’t think about that, not now. He was supposed to be finding something for his wife. What was it again… placemats. He had to make an effort of it. He managed to tear his sight away from Will’s window to snag the placemats from the bottom drawer and hurry downstairs. He didn’t trust himself to spend any more time in sight of the boy next door.

 

* * *

 

 

Hannibal’s torment continued the next day. Will was out trimming the hedges, and hadn’t even bothered to begin with a shirt. Hannibal had caught him stepping off his porch shirtless, and had been glued to his window ever since. Bedelia and Zach were at her sister’s, so there was no chance of being found out. His hand traveled ever southward as he watched his college boy neighbor _snip-snap_ at his parents’ shrubbery. He wasn’t all that muscular, but the way his arms squeezed his garden sheers drove Hannibal wild all the same.

Will was so focused on his task that he didn’t even notice an ambulance ear-splittingly siren its way down the street. Will _snipped_ , he _snapped_ , he _scissored_ , and that was all he needed to do in that moment. He was a smart boy, but he also knew how to suppress his wild thoughts and focus in on a single task: in this case, cutting the hedges.

 _He’s a regular garden boy,_ Hannibal thought. _If only…_

If only what? He considered that. _If only he would come over here,_ he decided. _If only_.

The boy below was still struggling through shaping the hedges, oblivious to Hannibal’s lewd thoughts. And of course he should be; Hannibal had made every effort not to make himself known to him. He had no intention of being the lecher next door, but with a neighbor boy as delicious as Will, it was damned difficult to be anything else. Bedelia satisfied him to a point, but there was always something lacking, and he saw that part he missed in every move Will made. Maybe he was the missing piece.

Will, on the other hand, was only thinking about girls, though not in the way he should have been. He was thinking about how his girlfriend had shown him her tits the day before summer break had started. And, more importantly, he was thinking about the way that it hadn’t affected his libido in the least. He hadn’t expected it to, necessarily, but he’d had a glimmer of hope that he could possibly be _normal_ and get a thrill from it. There was the word: _normal_. Normal boys didn’t lust after other… he couldn’t even bring himself to think it on purpose, but it was there in his subconscious nonetheless. _Normal boys didn’t lust after other boys_. He breathed heavily and tossed the shears aside. Maybe his thoughts were getting to him—no, it was the heat. It had to be the heat.

“Aren’t you hot?” Hannibal called. He was on his porch now. He’d betrayed himself and made a move. Maybe it wasn’t sexual, not overtly so, anyway, but he’d still made a move.

Will scratched at his head. Hannibal did his best not to gawk at the way Will’s pec rose with his arm. “Hot? Yes. I’m extraordinarily hot,” he answered. “Why?”

“Extraordinarily,” Hannibal muttered. Of course the boy of his affection would say _extraordinarily_. Not _very_ or _super_ or _really_ , but _extraordinarily_. Maybe it was a minor thing to touch on, but…

“Yeah,” Will said. “Extraordinarily. Are you offering something?”

“Offering?” Hannibal replied. He was taken aback. As much as he’d risked to talk to the boy, he hadn’t thought it through enough to realize there would be a give-and-take. “Uh,” he stumbled, “I could get you something to drink.”

“I have lemonade in the house,” Will said. Then, he displayed his gleaming white teeth: “Unless you have something stronger.”

“I do indeed,” Hannibal said. “But you don’t even know my name, do you?”

“Is that important? I’ve seen you around,” Will replied. “What _is_ your name, then?”

“Hannibal. Hannibal Lecter.”

Will scratched at the stubble on his chin. He seemed to have more of it than most boys his age, but then again, Hannibal had never paid attention to other boys. “That’s an odd name,” he said. “It has a ring to it, though.”

“Tell that to my wife,” Hannibal grumbled. “She kept her name.”

“That’s a shame,” Will said. “What were you offering, anyway? I could go for a beer.”

“Beer it is, then. Is wheat good for you?”

Will shrugged. “I don’t really care, sir.”

Hannibal cringed at that. _Sir._ Was he really so old? “I’ll get you some, then,” he said. He disappeared inside.

Will fidgeted with his shorts outside. They were new, and they didn’t wick the sweat away from his balls the way he figured they should. He reached into them to re-situate himself, and—

“My, my,” Hannibal said, arriving with a bottle in both hands. “I didn’t realize the prospect of alcohol was _that_ exciting.” In truth, he was screaming on the inside. The sight of Will like that was almost too much for his heart to take.

“Sorry,” Will said sheepishly, after he’d pulled his hand from his crotch. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

“Not at all,” Hannibal said. “You didn’t offend. Here, take your drink.” He held out one of the bottles.

Will accepted it, and immediately took several swallows from the bottle before lowering it. “Thank you, Mr. Lecter.”

Hannibal cringed again at the title. “Please, call me Hannibal,” he said. “I’m not that much older than you, after all.”

“Aren’t you?” Will asked. “You could be my dad.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m _old_ ,” Hannibal said. “Let me have my fantasy.”

“Alright,” Will replied. “I’ll let you have your fantasy.” He tipped his bottle back against his lips, then smacked them as he lowered it. “This is delicious, by the way. Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome,” Hannibal said. “But you didn’t tell me your name.”

“Oh!” Will’s eyelashes fluttered in a most delectable way. “Sorry. I’m Will.” He set his beer on the porch railing and offered his hand.

Hannibal took it and gave it a shake before releasing. “You’d better drink that,” he said. “No telling when your parents might look out the window.”

“My parents…?” Will trailed off. “They can see me, can’t they? Shit. Shit, shit, shit!” He brought the beer around his chest to shield it from his house’s view. “You wouldn’t tell them, would you?”

Hannibal’s lips twitched into a smile. “Of course not. Drink your beer, Will. I’ll take the bottle when you’re done. Unless…”

“Unless?” Will asked after a hefty swallow.

“Unless you want another. I have plenty inside.”

“…Inside? Are you sure?”

Hannibal’s insides burned. The boy in front of him seemed so pure, so innocent. Could he really let him into his home, knowing how he made him feel? His wife and son were gone, so… _Throw caution to the wind_ , he decided. “I’m sure. Come along. It’s too hot out here, isn’t it?”

“Very,” Will said. He looked down at his bare chest. “I don’t… I mean I’m not really equipped…”

Hannibal grinned, some might say hungrily. He kept himself from studying Will’s chest _too_ gratuitously, though. “Your shirt? Don’t worry, dear boy. I don’t mind. Come along.” He disappeared into the house.

Will followed. He gingerly stepped across the front threshold.

“Close the door,” Hannibal said from the kitchen.

Will closed the door behind himself and made his way to the kitchen. The fridge was open, and Hannibal was bent over rummaging around inside it. Will tried his best not to notice his ass, but the thought couldn’t be helped. He drank the rest of his beer in one go. “Mr. Lecter?” he asked.

“Ah! Here they are,” Hannibal said, not hearing him. He pulled back from the fridge with two more beers in hand and shut the door. “Both of these are yours. I’m afraid I’m something of a lightweight.” He set one of the bottles on the kitchen counter and extended the other to his new _friend_. Will reached out to grab it. Their fingers brushed together, and both of them shivered as if touched by electricity. Hannibal saw Will’s similar reaction and smiled. “Drink up,” he said.

“Really?” Will asked. He set his empty bottle on the counter and met Hannibal’s sight, doe-eyed. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have given It to you if I wasn’t sure,” Hannibal said. “Go on.”

Will nodded slightly, then paused. “It’s sealed.”

“So?” Hannibal replied. “Use your key.”

“…My key?” Will asked.

 _God, but he’s innocent_ , Hannibal thought. “Here,” he said, and took the bottle from Will’s hand. He pulled his keyring from his pocket and set his house key against the bottle’s cap. He popped it, cracking off the top, and handed the freshly-opened bottle back to Will. “There you are.”

Will gave him an awkward smile. “Thanks,” he said. “I guess I should’ve learned that by now.”

Hannibal deepened his smile. “Everyone learns at their own pace,” he said. “And truth be told, I didn’t learn that little trick until I was a doctoral candidate.”

“You had time to drink then?” Will asked, a twinkle of humor in his eye.

Hannibal chuckled at his expression. “More than you would think,” he said. “That’s when I met my wife, you know. At a party.” He grimaced when he realized what he’d just said. Why was he talking about Bedelia now? He had Will alone in front of him, and…

“I don’t really fit in, but I party quite a bit,” Will said. “But I’ve never… I mean, I’ve never met a girl like… Like you and your wife.”

Hannibal sensed an opening. “Never? You’ve never met a girl you liked?”

“Not at a party, sir.”

Hannibal winced at the _sir_ again. “Please, call me Hannibal. I’m nobody’s _sir_.”

“Right! Sorry. I’m just saying, I’ve never… Shit. I mean shoot! I mean, I’m sorry for cursing, I just—“

“Cursing is fine,” Hannibal cut in. “We all do it: adults, I mean. You’re an _adult_ now, aren’t you? So _shit_ isn’t out of your vocabulary. Go ahead…” He winked. “Curse all you want. You’re not at home.”

Will blushed. “Right… But still, I shouldn’t—“

“But you should,” Hannibal said. “Your parents must be conservative. I can tell from talking to you. You should know that I’m the furthest thing from conservative.” He twitched a little. Was he really saying the things that were coming out of his mouth? Was he really being so _flirtatious_? He was a married man, and Will was barely a man at all, but… here they were. “So say it,” Hannibal urged. “ _Shit_. Say it.”

“... _Shit_ ,” Will said under his breath. Then: “Shit,” a little louder.

“Feels good, right?” Hannibal asked.

“ _Shit_ … I mean, it feels… it feels _fucking_ good.”

“Don’t get to curse much, do you, Will? Such a shame…”

“Why’s it a shame?” Will asked.

Hannibal traced his hand down the second beer’s side, swiping away the accumulated sweat. “A shame that it’s so difficult for a man such as yourself to say the word _fuck_.”

“I don’t—I didn’t—I mean, _fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”_

“Don’t get _too_ excited,” Hannibal said. “But that’s the spirit I was looking for.”

“You’re not… why are you so cool about this?” Will asked. His hair fell in a single brown curl across his forehead. Hannibal found it more intoxicating than Will’s beer could ever be.

“I’m not cool about anything,” he said. “I’m merely a friendly neighbor.” He waited a moment, thinking over what he was about to say next. He had to decide whether he should push the boy further, or let him leave the way he’d come in, two beers heavier. But what was the harm? Will was legal, so that was out of the way at least, but the idea of scorning his next door neighbors concerned him. And there was always Bedelia. But, watching Will sip his beer, he realized he really only had one option. “The girls must be chasing after you,” he said.

“G-girls?” Will sputtered. He took another gulp of beer. “I mean, yeah. Girls. Chasing after me, sure. Didn’t they chase after you?”

Hannibal cocked his head. “Why would you think that?”

“You’re… I mean, hell. You’re handsome.”

“Handsome?” Hannibal was taken aback, but he tried not to let it show. This seemed to be going in the direction of his fantasies, and things never truly went that well in his experience. “You think I’m handsome?”

“Well…” Will stared down at his bottle. “I… yeah.” His eyes were downright watery. “Is that wrong? That I think you’re handsome?”

“No,” Hannibal replied simply. “But your parents would think it was. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

“Something like that,” Will said.

Hannibal studied him. Will’s Adam’s apple lolled in his throat as if he was trying to say something, denying it, then trying again on repeat. “What are you thinking, Will?”

“I’m thinking you’re being very kind to me,” he said. He pointed at his beer with his free hand. “I’m still a minor, so…”

“Oh, forget the legalities,” Hannibal said. “You’re in good company.”

“Yeah. Good company.” Will tipped the beer back and drained it completely.

“Thirsty? Try opening the next on your own.” Hannibal moved the second bottle closer to Will.

Will grabbed it and fished his keys out of his pocket. He raised one to the cap, then paused. “Like this?” he asked.

Hannibal knew he was trying to look _cool_ in front of him, but all he saw was an unsure college boy with… what was it? Will had some kind of aninterest in him, sure, but what kind of interest was it? Run of the mill curiosity? Or was it something… deeper? “Just like that,” Hannibal said.

Will’s tongue popped out between his lips as he set to popping the cap. Hannibal didn’t think he’d seen anything as adorable in his entire life. “I think… I got it!” Will cried. He pulled back at the sound of his own voice. “I didn’t mean to be loud,” he said.

“It’s quite alright,” Hannibal said. “This is something to celebrate. Now drink up.”

“You’re not drinking at all?” Will asked.

“As I said, I’m a lightweight,” Hannibal replied. “But I’m just sure you don’t get the chance at home, so I thought I’d offer. If you’re against it, I—“

“No,” Will interjected. “I’m not against it. This is… pleasant.”

 _Pleasant_. The word set Hannibal’s mind on fire in ways he knew it shouldn’t have. This was the boy next door, and surely he didn’t mean it the way Hannibal wanted to think he meant it, but… _The boy next door._ The thought almost sent him into laughter.It was too cliché. “Pleasant how?” he ventured. He had to feel this out before he made a move.

“Pleasant like… Hannibal? Are you…”

“Am I what?” Hannibal asked, regarding Will hungrily.

And Will noticed that hunger. “Are you coming on to me?” he said flatly.

Hannibal’s eyes flew wide. “…Well.” He cleared his throat. He hadn’t realized he’d been so obvious, but now that it was out in the open, what else could he say? “Would that bother you?”

Will held his bottle in both hands and stared intently down its neck. “No,” he said finally. “I think I’d like it.”

A thousand thoughts raced through Hannibal’s mind at that, most of them filthy. “You’re a very attractive man,” he said.

“A man?”

“That’s what you are, aren’t you? A young man to be sure, but don’t let that term fool you. You’re very much a man.”

“I… I guess I am,” Will said. He placed his bottle on the counter. “And you’re a man. You’re a stunningly _hot_ man, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“I most certainly do not,” Hannibal replied. “So I’m _hot_ , and you’re _handsome_. What’s to be done about that, Will?”

“Are you suggesting…?”

“I’m only suggesting as much as you want me to,” Hannibal said. “I don’t wish to push you into anything.”

“You wouldn’t be pushing me,” Will said. He turned his gaze away, his cheeks burning scarlet. “But you _are_ married, aren’t you?”

“And?” Hannibal replied. He decided to take a chance. He advanced on Will, touched his chin, and tipped his face up to meet his own. “I know that doesn’t bother you,” he said, cradling Will’s head in his hand.

“How could you… It doesn’t,” Will breathed.

“Good,” Hannibal said. Now was the time. Maybe the only time he would ever get. He leaned down to kiss him, and Will didn’t fight. His eyes fluttered shut as he accepted the kiss. They didn’t meet tongues, not yet. They merely moved their lips together as two parts of a whole. Hannibal could tell Will wasn’t experienced in the matter, and he tried to make up for it by applying just as much pressure as necessary, guiding him ever so slightly with his mouth until he was in all the right places at all the right times.

Will’s breath heaved gently against Hannibal’s lips as they broke their kiss. “I don’t… what are we doing?”

“Don’t think,” Hannibal said, and gave him a single kiss more. “Just do.”

“What do you want me to do?” Will asked.

“I want you to do whatever _you_ want you to do. So what do you want to do, young Will?”

“I’ve never slept with a man before,” Will said, then darted his hand to his mouth. “ _Fuck_! I’m so sorry, I should never have gone there, I shouldn’t have—“

“Shhh,” Hannibal soothed, moving the boy’s hand from his lips and replacing it with his own. He traced the edge of Will’s bottom lip, gently tugged it down, and then placed his own mouth against it. He nipped at it, eliciting a groan from deep in Will’s throat, then dove in for a real kiss. He used his tongue this time, darting it past Will’s lips to make contact with his tongue in turn. It was even more painfully evident now that Will was venturing into new territory. He tried to sharply prod Hannibal’s mouth with his tongue, but Hannibal eased him back into his own mouth with gentle but confident motions.

“This is… _fucking_ unreal…” Will said between kisses.

“It’s real,” Hannibal said. “Doesn’t _this—_ “ before he could think better of it he went for broke and hitched his hand between Will’s legs, “—feel real?”

“ _Fuck_!” Will yelped. “What are you doing?”

“I think you know,” Hannibal cooed. “Just tell me to stop if you don’t want it.” He began to work his palm across the front of Will’s shorts. He couldn’t be sure, but it felt like he wasn’t wearing boxers. “Are you going commando?” he asked.

“Y-yeah,” Will stammered. “I didn’t expect you to use a phrase like that, but… yeah.”

“Like what? _Commando_?” Hannibal asked. He slid his hand up and trailed his fingertips below Will’s waistband. “May I?”

Will sighed long and hard, not exasperated, but content. “You can do anything you want to me, Hannibal.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Hannibal said. He unsnapped Will’s shorts and slid down the zipper every so slowly, revealing his hidden hair and then… the real prize. He held the boy’s already hardening cock in his hand and smiled. “I don’t expect you’re very experienced?”

“Not at all,” Will said. “I don’t… I never let any of my girlfriends… Well, you know.” He laughed awkwardly. His cock continued to swell, even all nerves as he was. It wasn’t long before he could be considered hard as a rock. “God, you’ve got me so worked up. I’ve never had anyone…”

“I can tell that.” Hannibal played his fingertips along Will’s length, teasing and feeling along all the veins and ridges, and paying special attention to his tapered cockhead.

“Fuuuuuck,” Will groaned as he felt fingers wrap all the way around his cock for the very first time. “Are you going to get me off, now?”

“That’s my intention,” Hannibal said. He leaned in to lock lips with Will again and began to run his fist up and down his cock. “Mmm, you feel so delightful.”

“Yeah?” Will replied. “You taste even better.” He teased Hannibal’s lower lip with his teeth, mimicking Hannibal’s earlier actions, then dove in for another full kiss, tongues in play from the start this time. “I’m close,” he whispered a few moments later, far too soon in his eyes, but just long enough in Hannibal’s.

“Come for me,” Hannibal said, steadily tugging on Will’s cock. “Come on. Do it.”

“I… fuck… I…” Will started to push his hips further into Hannibal’s grasp, but abruptly pulled away and yanked up his shorts. “ _Fuck!_ ” he whispered harshly.

“What’s wrong?” Hannibal asked.

“I heard something,” Will said. “I have to go.”

“Don’t—Wait just a moment. You’re dressed, you don’t need to run.”

“I’m not wearing a shirt!”

Hannibal sucked in a breath as that simple, obvious truth dawned on him. He heard the garage door begin to roll open and his body went electric. “Go!” he urged.

Will nodded emphatically and made to leave.

Hannibal caught him by the elbow. “Not the front! Go out the back.”

Will nodded _yes_ again, fear in his eyes, and hustled to the back door of the kitchen. He disappeared through it double-quick, leaving Hannibal to lean against the counter alone and throbbing.

Hannibal took a second to gather his thoughts, then tucked his hard cock up under the waistband of his pants and let his shirt fall over it. _Safe_ , he thought, but a creeping feeling of dread had set into his stomach.

His wife and son came through the garage door a minute later. He’d shut himself in the bathroom by the time they entered the house. “Shit,” he hissed. It had all been so good, so fucking _easy_ , that he’d managed to forget about Bedelia and Zach. And with a college boy? _Shit_ was right.

“Hannibal?” Bedelia called.

“One minute!” Hannibal shouted back. He squeezed the bridge of his nose. _I made a mistake,_ he thought. _Just a little mistake_. _But she won’t know. It’s fine._

Bedelia frowned at Hannibal when he emerged from the bathroom. “Are you alright?” she asked. “You’re disheveled.”

“I’m fine, dearest,” he said. “Really.”

Her frown deepened and she brushed his hair to the side. “Well, you look a little peaked. You should go lie down.”

“Yes,” Hannibal said, “I think that’s a good idea.” _A very good idea,_ he thought. _Anything to get me away from you right now._ He winced in spite of himself, horrified at his own thought. He’d never thought that way about his wife before, but he couldn’t imagine anything more awful than standing in front of her now. He pecked her on the cheek. “I’ll just rest. I’ll be back soon,” he said.

“Feel better!” Her voice trailed after him up the stairs to their second floor bedroom. He collapsed on the bed and noticed with a dark chuckle that he was still hard as steel. He rolled over on his belly, his cock straining between his pants and the mattress below, and willed himself to drift off to sleep. _Will won’t tell_ , he thought. _And neither will I._


	2. Cicadas, Ratatouille, and a Boy's Bedroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will calls his best friend Beverly for advice, and decides to pay Hannibal a visit.

But Hannibal was wrong. Will _did_ tell. It wasn’t the first thing he did when he got home—that honor went to a frustratingly unsatisfying jerk-off session to cure his blue balls, which ended up doing nothing at all to alleviate the ache—but it didn’t take him long to pick up his phone, scroll to his recent calls, and tap the most frequent name on the list: his oldest friend, Beverly Katz.

The line only rang once before it connected. “What’s up?” It was her usual greeting, regardless of who she was talking to. Informal, yes, but that was Beverly for you. She didn’t deal much in social niceties.

“You’re not going to believe what just happened. And I need your advice.”

“Jumping right in, huh?” she said. “Spill.” Will could imagine her on the other end of the line, probably sitting cross-legged on her bed with her laptop open—or maybe reading one of the grisly true crime books she got off on so much. She said it was par for the course for a criminal justice major, but he figured she just had a taste for the morbid.

He sat on his bed too, _sans_ laptop, though. “Like I said, you won’t believe this,” he said, “but I’m being perfectly serious—“

“You can get on with it,” she cut in. “I know you don’t lie.”

He took a deep breath, and all at once as if in one word he expelled: “ _Ihookedupwithsomeone_.” Fire rose in his cheeks as soon as he got the confession out.

There was dead air on the line.

“Bev?”

“I think I must have misheard you,” she said. “Because it sure sounded like you said you hooked up with someone.”

Will took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d figured she’d have a hard time grasping it. “That’s exactly what I said.”

“You? Will Graham? Eternally virginal Will Graham? _You_ hooked up with someone?”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” He slid his glasses back on and blinked as his vision refocused. “It wasn’t _sex_ sex, but it was still a hookup.”

“Oh my god,” she said as understanding dawned on her. “My baby boy’s all grown up.”

“Spare me the teasing,” he grumbled. “I just needed to tell someone, and had to ask—“

“And I was the obvious choice, right? Damn. I did _not_ see this coming.”

Will nodded, though of course she couldn’t tell from two miles away. “Neither did I, but here we are. And before you ask, no, you don’t know him.”

“You know me too well,” she said. “That was my next question.”

As distraught as he was, a smile flickered its way across his lips. “And your _next_ next question is if he’s hot. And he is. He’s very handsome.”

“Quit being so psychic, brainiac. Handsome’s a funny word, though. He’s either hot or he’s cute or he’s just not. _Handsome_ makes him sound like he’s… Wait. Is he?”

“Yeah,” Will replied. He knew exactly what she was asking, just as she’d known exactly what he was alluding to by saying _handsome_. They were in tune like that. “He is. He’s older.”

“Well hot damn! I don’t know why I’m surprised; any guy would want to snap up a little twinklet like you.”

“Twinklet?”

“It’s not important,” she said. “But who _is_ he? How did you meet him? Please tell me he’s not one of your mom’s friends, or something gross like that.”

Will grimaced. His mom’s friends were all disgusting, every last one of them. “No. That really would be gross.”

“Can you imagine you and Ponytail?” she asked, using their nickname for the aging hippie botany professor who hung on Will’s mom’s every word. He’d probably been angling for her affections since before Will was even an embryo, and likely hadn’t had his tweed suit cleaned in just as long.

“Dear god no,” Will said in horror. “You sure know how to bring down the mood.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Shit. Right. We’re celebrating your conquest. Only… I don’t actually know what that conquest isyet.”

“It’s probably not much by your standards—“

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, but she was only playing at being offended. She did tend to get around, and Will always heard straight from the horse’s mouth about her escapades with the frat boys—and wannabe frat boys—at Duke.

“You know what I meant.” He took in a gentle breath before he continued. “Anyway, it’s not much. We kissed some, and that was really, really nice… I’d never kissed anyone before, you know, and he was really gentle and slow about it. He eased me in until I was comfortable. You know, with his lips and his tongue and all, and—“

“Yes, Will, I know how kissing works,” she said, cutting him off. “What about the sex?”

“What about it?” he asked.

She sighed through the receiver. “You poor, hopeless, naïve little boy. What did you _do_?”

“Oh,” he said. “That. He, um, he gave me a handjob.” He figured his cheeks could burn through steel at that point.

“That’s it?” she asked.

He bristled. “Hey, that’s a lot! For me at least.”

A second sigh pushed its way into his ear. “I guess you’re right. You’re on the right track, at least. I’m proud of you. Did you return the favor?”

“Return the…? Oh, you mean did I give him one too? I would have, but his wife got home. I didn’t even get to fini—“

“ _His wife?!_ ”

“Uh, yeah. That’s why I called. I don’t need to just _spill_ , I need advice because—“

“Because he’s married. Jesus, Will. You’ve gotten yourself into a whole mess of shit here, haven’t you?” He didn’t answer, so she forged ahead. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done the whole married guy thing. It was kind of hot. No, it was _a lot_ hot, actually. She never found out about us, thank god, but we fucked on the regular for a month or so. He had the _biggest_ —ahem. I’ll spare you the gory details. Point is, I guess I can’t exactly judge you, but for someone just getting into the game it’s a lot to take on.”

“You never told me you had an affair,” he said.

“It wasn’t my affair, it was his affair. I was just the third party,” she said, sounding defensive. “I wasn’t cheating on anyone.”

Will shook his head, another useless gesture she couldn’t see over the phone. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Bev.”

“Now that I think of it, it _was_ a positive experience. A very positive experience,” she said, totally ignoring him. “Married guys are all pent-up sexual frustration. They fall into the same boring pattern with their wives year after year, and once they get to let loose they _really_ let loose. And if your man’s into guys? Hoo, boy. That’ll be a _ton_ of frustration. He can’t get anything close to that from his wife. Plus, they’re usually experienced, too. I imagine he could teach you a thing or two. How old is he, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Will said. “Around forty, maybe? Maybe mid-thirties?”

“Yeah, he’ll have experience, then,” she said.

“Bev…”

“Yeah?”

He leaned back onto his pillow. “Stop me if I’m wrong here, but it almost sounds like you’re suggesting I go for this.” He _had_ called her for a yea or nay, but as it turned out he hadn’t even needed to pose the question.

“Hmm,” she mused. “You know, I guess I am. Just _be careful_ , Will. There’s no telling how big his wife is. She might be able to break you in half.”

Will rolled his eyes. “No one’s going to be breaking anyone in half.”

“Except maybe your married man breaking your ass in half,” she said, then cackled like it was the funniest joke she’d ever come up with.

He waited her laughter out, then quietly: “You don’t think this makes me a bad person, do you?”

“Nah,” she said. “It makes _him_ a bad person, but you? You’re just getting some. Don’t worry about it, kid.”

They said their goodbyes, and Will set his phone aside. She was right on every count for the reasons he wanted Hannibal, but at the same time… he thought her moral compass on the cheating itself was a bit skewed.

And if they _did_ go ahead with it… Wait.Will had a realization. Hannibal hadn’t expressed any intention to go ahead with itat all. He’d just shooed him out the back door. But would he have invited him back for a repeat performance if they hadn’t been interrupted? Will’s mouth twitched in a half-smile. There was only one way to find out.

 

* * *

 

The cicadas chirped. The _fucking_ cicadas. Hannibal couldn’t stand them. Word was, they only came out every fourteen years, but this was the unfortunate year that they emerged, and this was the unfortunate year that he wanted to burrow underground like they did just to avoid their cacophony. But he didn’t have that luxury.

“I think they’re beautiful,” Bedelia said.

“And I think you’re just trying to calm me down,” Hannibal replied.

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“It’s disingenuous,” he said, perhaps a little too brusquely. “But I suppose not.” He frowned. His lips weren’t the only thing involved; the frown stretched to his eyes, and even his forehead.

“Maybe I should leave you be,” she said in response. She’d seen his reaction just like anyone could. And after all, she was his wife. She could read him better than anyone else could. “I’ll go back to our room,” she said. She sounded measured, but the truth was, she was more than a little bit scared of her husband. There was always something about him… She couldn’t place it, but she knew he wasn’t _normal_ , and that frightened her, as much as she adored him. She scurried off and up the stairs to their bedroom.

“Finally alone,” he muttered.

As if on cue, a tiny, almost imperceptible tap-tap-tap came from the front door. Curious, Hannibal headed for it and peeked out the peep-hole.

 _Will._ It was Will. What should he do? What _could_ he do? His wife was just upstairs, and his son was down the hall watching Ratatouille for the millionth time, and… _fuck_.

Will noticed the shadow in the peephole and knocked again.

Hannibal hissed a _ssssss_ between his teeth and opened the door. He didn’t want his family to hear any more knocking.

“Hannibal?” the boy asked, innocent as ever.

Hannibal couldn’t fault him. Will didn’t know any better. He was only nineteen. “You can’t be here,” he stage-whispered.

“Is… is your family home?” Will asked.

“Yes,” Hannibal said, “they are. And you need to leave.”

Will swallowed hard and nodded. “When can I see you again, then?”

“See me again? What do you think this is? Or was?” Hannibal asked, crossing his arms in an attempt to seem powerful. He was doing his best to rank himself over the boy at his doorstep.

“I just… we had something, didn’t we?” Will asked.

Hannibal just squinted at him.

“I… I’ll do anything you want. I’m okay with anything. I just… I want you. Is that okay?”

Hannibal cursed himself. It was veryokay by him, but he didn’t want to admit to it. He _couldn’t_ admit to it. “I… _Fuck_!” he exclaimed, too loudly for his taste. “Apologies. But god, you’re such a temptation.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Will asked, eyes full of hope and naivety. He really didn’t understand what he was getting into, and that’s what hurt Hannibal the most. Will was pure. Will was innocent. And Hannibal was an adult man: an adult man who should know better. But he didn’t know better. And so…

“Are your parents home?” Hannibal asked.

“N-no,” Will stammered. “Do you want to…?”

“Yes,” Hannibal said, “I think we should go back to your place. How long will they be gone?”

“Two days,” Will said. “They went to see—“

“Hush,” Hannibal interrupted. “It doesn’t matter. Just… One second.” He disappeared into the house.

Will shuffled from foot to foot on the front porch. He considered leaving, considered running away for the safety of his house, or maybe taking his bike to Bev’s, but he was too _entranced_ by Hannibal to go anywhere. Plus, he was the one who’d taken this leap of faith in the first place, and he needed to see it out. So he stood there, stepping side to side like an idiot, waiting for the object of his affection to reveal himself again.

It didn’t take long. Hannibal appeared in the doorway again. “As it turns out, my wife is asleep,” he said. “And my son won’t miss me for another hour or so. Lead the way.”

Will wasn’t used to being the leader in any way shape or form. He froze in place, but Hannibal extended his hand, Will took it, and led him off the porch. He took Will to his front door, found it to be unlocked, and let them both in, still hanging onto his hand.

“My room’s upstairs,” Will said.

“I expected that,” Hannibal said. Of course he did. This _boy_ he was with had an upstairs bedroom, just like every childof every parent with a two-story home. But he was so fucking delectable, and he wasn’t exactly a child, was he? He was nearly a man. “Which one is yours?” he asked when they’d reached the landing.

“This one,” Will said, and tugged him into the room on the right.

Hannibal stumbled forward into Will’s room and flinched as the door shut behind him. “This is…” He looked around. Will’s walls were covered in art prints. Hannibal could recognize a few late Cézannes, with a Braque in a place of honor above his desk. The boy had taste, to say the least. “This is wonderful,” he said. “I take it you enjoy cubism.”

“The paintings?” Will asked. He looked away. “I was hoping you’d be more interested in… well, you know…”

Hannibal grinned, displaying his elongated canines. “You mean your bed?”

Will looked away. “Yeah,” he said. “My bed.”

“I like your bed quite a lot,” Hannibal said, though there was nothing special about it. It was a typical queen bed, with a light blue comforter and matching pillow cases. A bronze lamp crudely fashioned as a dog stood on his nightstand, in stark contrast to the gorgeous art surrounding them.

“Th-thanks,” Will stammered.

“What’s that?” Hannibal asked, indicating the lamp.

“Oh… that? I like dogs.”

Will’s innocence drove Hannibal wild. He advanced on Will without warning, pressing his lips hard against the boy’s own, and pushed him back over the bed’s wooden footboard onto the mattress. Hannibal grabbed him under the arms to shove him up fully onto the mattress. He positioned himself over him and gazed into his eyes. “Do you want me?” he asked.

“Yes,” Will said, dredging up some confidence. “I want you.”

“Good,” Hannibal said with a toothy grin. He dove in for a deeper kiss. His hand moved to Will’s crotch, massaging it, groping at it, feeling him grow under his denim. “Better take off these jeans,” Hannibal said.

“Um…” Will muttered. “Let me.” He undid his pants, unzipped them, and bucked his hips to slide them off. He threw them aside. His hard cock pronged his boxers up obscenely.

“You’re not all the way done,” Hannibal said. He licked his lips. He tugged lightly at Will’s waistband, eliciting a moan. “Calm yourself, boy. I haven’t even taken them off yet.” He gripped the waistband more firmly and yanked down, pulling Will’s boxers down and to his knees.

Will’s cock bounced out in the open. “ _Fuck_!” he cried.

Hannibal smiled. “Good,” he said. “You remember how to curse.”

“You bet you _ass_ I do,” Will said. Then, he looked concerned. “What are you going to do to me, Hannibal?”

“What do you want me to do?” Hannibal replied. He wrapped his fingers around Will’s erection and gave him a quick stroke.

“ _FuckI!”_ Will shook his head fast. “I don’t know, sir.”

“ _Sir_ again?”

“I mean… I don’t know, Hannibal. I just… I don’t know.”

Hannibal clucked his tongue. “Have you ever had your cock sucked?”

Will’s eyes flew wide. “N-no sir,” he said. “I mean… _fuck_.”

“If you really want to call me sir,” Hannibal said, “then sir It is.” He bent down and licked along Will’s length.

Will groaned again.

“Shhh,” Hannibal urged, after two more licks. “You don’t want anyone to know about us, do you?”

“No one else is home, sir,” Will replied.

“In that case…” Hannibal swallowed the boy’s cock down to the root before he could react.

“ _F-fuck!_ ” Will cried.

Hannibal sucked up and down, throating Will’s cock in a way he knew no girlfriend—or even boyfriend, perhaps—would ever be able to do for him. He wasn’t particularly hung, but he wasn’t small, either, and Hannibal thought he was just the perfect size to suck on.

“ _Hannibal, I’m gonna—“_

Hannibal pulled off of his cock abruptly. “No,” he said in a commanding tone. “You’re not coming yet.”

“But—“

“I’m sorry, dear boy,” he said. “You’ll have to wait. I have other plans. You didn’t think I’d only get _you_ off, did you?”

“What do you mean?”

Hannibal undid his belt and the top button of his jeans. “I have needs, too,” he said.

Will bit his lip, not in a nervous way, but in a _hungry_ way, and waited for Hannibal to unleash his beast _,_ so to speak. But after popping that single button, he didn’t continue. He clearly wanted Will to finish the job. Will tentatively reached his hands for Hannibal’s crotch and gripped his zipper.

“Don’t be shy,” Hannibal said. “Just act.”

Will nodded, gulped, and unzipped Hannibal’s fly. He was wearing boxers, the regular shorts kind, so Will felt for the fly and jumped when his hand touched his hard cock.

“You’re…“

“Hard,” Hannibal said. “You can say it. I’m _hard_. I’m _erect_. Can’t you say it? Talk dirty like a man, Will.”

“You’re… _hard_ ,” he said. He threaded Hannibal’s cock through his boxers’ fly. “And _throbbing_ ,” he added.

“There you go,” Hannibal said. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

“Do you want me to…”

“Touch it?” Hannibal asked. “Taste it?” he added. “Whatever you want to do is what I want, too. Let’s call it a learning experience.”

Will nodded. Hannibal’s cock stuck out in front of him, larger even than some he’d seen in the porn videos he’d watched on his laptop: the ones he’d cut out of his browsing history like a surgeon. Hannibal was gifted, and he couldn’t even imagine fitting him in his mouth yet, so he started with his hands. He gripped Hannibal’s length and tugged up and down his cock.

“Spit on it,” Hannibal said. “Then you’ll be able to get to the head without chafing.”

Will nodded dutifully and spat on his hand. He spread it on Hannibal’s cockhead and worked it as he imagined he would like his own cock to be worked on. He figured in that way he was better than a girl could ever be, maybe even better than his wife could ever be, and Hannibal responded in a way that did nothing but confirm it for him. He kept stroking, slow but assured, pressure applied, then decided to get fancy and started to twist lightly at the head of Hannibal’s cock.

He was met with groans. “Damn, you’re good at this,” Hannibal said. “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Never,” Will said. “Not once.”

“Never? Then maybe you should taste it and get the full experience,” Hannibal said.

“Taste it…?” Will trailed off, but he knew deep down that he wanted to do exactly what Hannibal had suggested. He wanted to know how his cock would feel against his tongue. So, once his hand had stroked down to the base of Hannibal’s cock, he squeezed it and lowered his head to the tip.

“That’s right,” Hannibal said. “Taste it.”

Will didn’t have to be told again. He swirled his tongue around the head, lapping up his pre-come, causing a groan to escape from Hannibal’s lips. The groan encouraged him even more. He sucked Hannibal’s cockhead into his mouth, and down his shaft a bit, though he didn’t—and couldn’t if he’d tried to—take it all.

“ _Fuuuuuuuuuuck_ ,” Hannibal moaned.

Will took that as a sign that he was doing _something_ right, even though he wasn’t quite sure what that something was. He pulled back on Hannibal’s cock, then back down again, then up, then down, up and down, up and down, just like he’d seen in porn, and Hannibal seemed to react properly. He pulled off long enough to say “I’m sorry I can’t deepthroat—“

“Shut up,” Hannibal snapped. “Get back on it.”

Will set his lips back down on Hannibal’s cock, his tongue teasing the ridges and veins, sucking up and down but making an extra effort to swirl his tongue around just like he imagined he’d like to have his own cock sucked. That had never happened before, obviously, but he had some ideas, and he played them out on Hannibal, who seemed completely enthralled. He did his best to swallow Hannibal’s cock, and made it most of the way down. He was proud of that.

“Close enough,” Hannibal muttered, apparently acknowledging his attempt. “Keep going,” he said, “I’m almost there.”

Will would’ve grinned if he didn’t have a mouthful of cock. He went back down, even further this time, triggering his gag reflex but still apparently pleasing his lover. He licked from base to tip and back again. Hannibal laced his hand in Will’s hair and pushed him back down his length. Will grasped the base of his cock where his mouth couldn’t reach and stroked it in rapid movements. He pushed back against Hannibal’s hand and slid off his cock just far enough to suck at his head. He swirled his tongue around Hannibal’s sensitive ridge in quick circles. Between the stroking and the licking, Hannibal couldn’t take it anymore.

“Swallow it!” he ordered.

His attention to Hannibal’s cock perked up. He held his head in his mouth and worked his shaft with his hand until it started to spasm. Spurt after spurt of warm come filled his mouth. It was saltier than he’d expected it to be, but a little bitter, too. He liked it. He didn’t even think of the possibility of spitting, as amateur as he was, so he swallowed as best he could, even though a little ran down his chin before Hannibal was done climaxing.

“Fucking perfect,” Hannibal groaned. He reached his hand down and swiped the extra come from Will’s chin and pushed it into his come-slicked mouth. Will suckled like the good boy he was. “Damn,” Hannibal muttered, “I haven’t had anything that good in, well… A long time.”

“I’m happy I could help,” Will said, eyes bright.

“Come here,” Hannibal said, and tugged him up until they were face to face. He kissed him hard, and this time Will knew how to use his tongue, having learned from their last engagement. “I can taste myself on you,” Hannibal said between kisses.

“Is that a problem?” Will asked.

“Hardly,” Hannibal replied, and kissed him even _‘hardly’_ harder.

“Will you get me off now?”

Hannibal checked his watch. “I don’t have time,” he said. “You understand, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Will said quietly. “You’re a married man. I understand.”

“Precisely.” He tipped Will’s head up for another kiss. “But this won’t be the last time. I assure you.”

“Really?”

“Really. I couldn’t resist you after this if I tried.” Hannibal dove in for another kiss. “We’ll have to be careful. _Very_ careful. But you’re my special boy now.”

“Special boy?”

“Yes,” Hannibal replied. “You’re my special boy. Don’t forget that.”

Hannibal let himself out, and Will was left with a hard-on and not much else. He lamely dropped his hand to his erection. Jerking off didn’t feel worth it, so he pulled up his boxers. His bulge pointed high toward the ceiling. _What have I gotten myself into?_ he thought. He looked over to his phone on the bedside table. Beverly would want to know about this, but… for now, it was his secret. His and Hannibal’s. After all, he was his _special boy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading another chapter! Comments appreciated, as always. Sorry for the slow update. I haven't been feeling tip-top lately. I should get the next one out faster, but I don't want to rush these. I just pump out my other two series (yes, I have three series running at the same time, probably because I'm incredibly masochistic. If you like smut, maybe take a look at Por Siempre, 'cause that's basically the entire point of it. Chapter 3 and 4 in particular), but I actually spend time working on this one. Anyway, I hope you stick around to find out what happens next!


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